Therefore, We Eat
by Tenuem
Summary: “I am a human.” He spoke, lie easily slipping through his lips like it was obvious. “Just a homeless one, nothing more.” The person across from him didnt seem all that convinced.
1. A Beautiful Death

**Therefore, We Eat**

 _Chapter 1_

 ** _A Beautiful Death_**

Unedited test chapter for a concept. 

In which no prison can hold the mad for too long. 

Danny supposed that playing hero was probably, most certainly stupid. He supposed that if he had _not_ decided the world needed another one, that if he had _not_ decided that the Justice League couldn't handle it, that he may have just been alright. Of course though, he was stupid, and Sam thought the idea was cool, and Tucker was just supportive of anything. So here he was. In a _prison_ of all things.

Danny could remember those old _Don't Vandalize The Buildings or You'll Go to Prison Forever,_ videos they'd show in school alongside the _If You Do Drugs You'll Die,_ presentations, and he never—not even in his wildest dreams(nightmares)—imagined he'd end up in jail.

In _prison_.

 _In Arkham_.

-0-

There wasn't a lot of things in the world that really honestly scared Danny. Yeah, he had fears, but they weren't normal ones. He was afraid of the government, and the Justice League, and his _parents, and himself_. So he'd pretend that he didn't have such _silly, irrational_ fears like those, and instead lied about a fear of spiders and clowns—he did have a problem with circuses though. You'd never be able to drag him back to one of those—because that was easier then actually admitting his fears.

He had sealed himself in the darkest cell in the entire building that he could find. In the furthest room, down the longest hallway in the isolation area. So he'd be isolated. Like he deserved. Danny didn't bother to think about how he didn't chose this. About how this was just a holding cell until he could be driven off to _Greenland_ just to be back at another—. No. He wasn't going to think about that right now. The cell was nice actually, in fact he didn't even have to deal with the other prisoners—he ignored how they weren't allowed to be near him in case he _attacked or something_ —and the guards didn't come near him since he was so far away. It was nice. He could appreciate it.

-0-

Danny's arrival went something like this.

It was the dark of the night. He could tell from the supernatural, almost buzz in the fresh almost forest smelling air, that it was nearing the Witching Hour—3:00 AM—his eyes glowed dimly in the back of the truck. The Witching Hour was more then an old folk tale, as Danny had learned. When ever he was up around three in the morning he got a sort of _buzz_ through his veins. Like drinking alcohol or taking too much pain medication. The desire, the need to perform his obsession would almost double. Sometimes it was hard, especially on the bad days when all he could think about was his obsession, all in life—death?—that mattered was it.

He could rather easily recall the one time had an especially bad, _obsessive_ day. The Witching Hour had come, and the already supernatural _buzz_ in his head and veins from the strong obsession day, seemed to almost double. He had spent most of the night nervously darting along the sky making sure the town, _his town,_ was okay and safe. That had not been an enjoyable night.

They were driving along some sort of city road, he knew that much—it was smooth and every once in awhile Danny could could hear the zinging _wooosh_ of a car racing past the van he was in—and for once he was actually happy. The pod they—they, them, those ones, _The G. I. W_.—had decided to lock him in was prone to julsting his body rather violently. He was standing up right. His feet bolted down in a way so that if he really tried, and pointed his toes he could just barely brush up against the metallic bottom of the pod, Danny's arms were bolted down by his sides and his neck was held in place, forming an uncomfortable lump in his throat. He knew that any pothole or lump in the road would not be fun. The skin around his wrist and ankles was torn and raw, the light, sweet scent of ectoplasm filled the truck.

The truck lurched suddenly, and Danny was forced forward, the iron clamp around his neck choked him, stinging his bones and burning his flesh, he let out a cry that sent flickers of pain up his throat and was muffled by the circular muzzle clamped around his mouth. There were two more bumps; the power filtrator bracelets around his arms and legs and _neck_ buzzed lightly, glowing a faint green as they began to filter his output energy into electricity to power the truck, and the pod. Danny could already smell the tangy, citrus and sugar, scent of ectoplasm—his—working to attempt to heal him.

The bracelets were his design vaguely. He had had been forced to explain how to turn ectoplasmic energy into electricity and normal usable energy, since it was dangerous and the agents didn't want to risk and important people. So somewhat, he knew how it worked, and currently it was literally eating away at his body. Which was not very pain free experience.

The truck ran over two, much more smooth almost _artificial_ bumps in the road, which Danny blearily realized were probably speed bumps. _They were going somewhere._ A few of the other boxes and containers shifted as the road began to tilt them upwards, Danny's back was forced up and against a the rather hot back of the pod, which slowly began to overheat him in his already weak form.

His eyes rolled in his head unwillingly, and suddenly there was a click, and the door on the furthest back wall opened, exposing the entire truck to the bright light of the moon. Danny could hear the muffled sound of people talking, along with the dark blurred outlines of bodies moving towards him. The world shifted, and Danny drowned in the black.

-0-

Everything was decently okay. Maybe. He was sat in the corner of the cell, it had been exactly four days, thirteen minutes, and forty-two seconds since he had arrived. So far, the experience was mostly boring, if not a nice break. He personally blamed knowing the exact time on spending too much time with Clockwork, but then again in his life, he never knew. The lights flickered out casting the room into an ereathal darkness, and Phantom groaned. When it got dark his eyes automatically glowed brighter, activating his slight night vision and allowing him to light the room in a green haze. Unfortunately for him, this was still energy output, and that meant that the collars and bracelets were still taking his energy, and powering something. He didn't know what.

The world seemed to be in a haze, the faint green casting him into a world of repetitive stinging, rhythmic pulsing. Danny breathed deeply, cold air surrounding his body as he moved to stand, bracing his weight on the wall he swayed. It was probably a beautiful night out. He always loved the stars. Unfortunately for him though, there were no windows and he hadn't had the chance to go out into the yard since he was deemed as far too dangerous. Basically, _they_ didn't want anyone seeing him as human, and so he didn't get to go outside. Really though, he didn't mind that much. He'd rather not interact with the characters of the prison for as long as he could.

It was sometime at night now, since they turned off the lights at night as Danny had learned. Which he personally took great pleasure in. Back at the facility they didn't really turn off the lights. He had been able to keep track of the time for the first few days at the facility but after he started passing out, he couldn't really tell anymore. After all, you couldn't count seconds while asleep.

Danny was determined not to fall asleep, and so far he hadn't, but even now he could feel the exhaustion pulling at his frame. Tugging, trying to coerce him on to the small bed in the corner. It had only been around four or five days since he had come. _They_ didn't have any problem shoving him into the dark basement cell, where he could hear everything. The humming of lights, keys jingling, and the god awful stench of what went on above him.

Danny sighed, the weight of his past decisions heavy on his back. He wanted his mom and his dad and his family back, he wanted to go home. Danny leaned up against the wall, his head tilting up to stare at the ceiling of the stone room.

The world burst into light as an explosion rocked the building.


	2. Yesterday’s Problems

Have I mentioned how much I hate this fic? Like I don't at all like it or wanna continue it. But some people out there actually do like it?? And want closure so now I'm kinda stuck in this limbo of I don't like it, but I also don't like abandoning things.

Oh Human People Reviews!

 **Why do you all like this nostop**

 **Lokiofthenight:** it's never to early for Batman, but no. It's not Batman.

 **Curry-llama:** thanks though I'm pretty sure I stole the idea from a bunch of ao3 fics I read a long time ago

 **Anti-Angst Guy:** :(

 **Therefore, We Eat**

 _Chapter 2_

 _ **Yesterday's Problems**_

In which a hard work out is sort of 

achieved and a city is breached. 

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment, before chaos rang through the building. Danny's head rang, and his stomach churned painfully. He stumbled to the middle of the room, wide and panicked eyes scanning the area. Something was happening. Guards were at his door before he could even care to move beyond the spot in the center or the area. They ran into the room, swinging their arms around his, and tugging him down a dark hallway, shouting worlds and orders lost to Danny's ears. They were one of the different guards. The ones that were hired by _them_ , but as far as he knew, weren't _them_.

There was a sizzling hiss of pipes from above him and Danny suddenly realized this would be his only chance of escape for a long time. The pipes burst suddenly, spewing water down onto them in a violent hissy spit. The guard to his left—the one who was with _them_ —let out a shout, yelling something far lost to his ears as the man dragged Danny and the other guard out of the way of the fizzleing pipe.

Above them her could hear the confusingly crisp sound of yelling and cheering, along with gun fire and loud foot falls. Danny let out a grunt as his arm was twisted uncomfortably. Another explosion rocked the building, this one only meters away from them, he could barely feel the tightening and tensing of the guards hand around his arm before all three of them were being blown in varying directions. Danny skidded across the floor, the concrete ripping holes in the white uniform and burning and brushing away his skin. The acidic scent—much like having too many sour candies in one room—of ectoplasm burned at his nose making his stomach churn in what he refused to believe was a deep set _want, need, feed._

 _God he was hungry. So damn hungry._ The sound of a loud explosion forced him out of the brainly thought cycle of need want hungry feed want food. Carefully he aligned his body and tried to stand, for a moment his legs buckled, stuttering like he had been electrocuted—which he had, but that was before and this was now—then with the grace of a newborn giraffe, he stood.

Danny threw a glance over his shoulder, the guard—the one that wasn't wearing the white—was on the ground passed out, his limbs sprawled awkwardly, almost painfully around the man's limp form. Danny would've cringed if it wasn't for all the adrenaline pumping through his system, numbing his sensing and drugging his mind. With a shaking breath he turned his head back forward. A few feet in front of him was the agent. He was slowly aligning himself and rising to his feet. Danny could only watch—of course in a fight or flight situation his brain had chosen _freeze_ —as the agent crawled to his feet.

Danny swallowed hard, a thick lump already forming in his throat. His gut twinged painfully, curling and twisting uncomfortably. God, he just wanted to hide away and never come out. Danny breathed harshly, barley actually taking in any air before he was releasing it. Spinning around he made to run. Feet slapping painfully against the cement ground as he moved, Danny tried to ignore the pain.

He was at the end of the hallway when another explosion rocked the building. Danny could already hear the sounds of fighting, yelling, and feet against the floor above as he moved up the stairs. Limping slightly as he climbed.

There was a rumbling noise above him, and before he could think to move or run, the ceiling caved in. Heavy large stones crushing his form.

-0-

Danny awoke to a crushing pain on his back. Most likely, because he was being crushed by something. He laid there dazed for a moment trying to figure out what was happening. He was hungry, and tired, and in general just exhausted.

That was when Danny noticed the rush brushing through his veins. The collars, _they were broken_. Crushed he could only assume. Slipping into intangibility was harder than it should've been, he blocked halfway in and out for a few seconds before finally getting the hold of it. A cool icy feeling traced his veins—like when he was given a shot—down his arms and legs as Danny slowly lifted himself from the wreckage.

If he was going to attempt to leave, now would be the best time. Especially since he now had his powers back. Danny managed to phase his way through the walls of the building. Moving in a daze and paying little to no attention to the other humans—even if some of them didn't really look even vaguely human—he drifted out of the building and through the walls.

It was raining heavily when he finally made it through the last wall. Thick water droplets smashed against the ground harshly, part of him was afraid that it was going to start hailing. Danny dropped his intangibility as soon as he made it into the thick of the city. Coughing harshly and leaning up against a nearby store wall, Danny breathed harshly trying to regain his breath. His lung burned, and his muscles ached with each twitch of his limbs.

Stumbling down a hill he slipped, body rolling and rolling and—he hit a tree. Danny curled in on himself, his uniform was soaked, covered in mud, loose bits of grass and leaves, his hair was not much better, not that he could see it. He lazily scrubbed at it for a moment before realizing that he probably had to move. There was no telling that they—and _they_ —would be searching the grounds and surrounding area for him. Danny rolled to his stomach, positioning and aligning his limbs below him, he pushed his body up. It felt more like a push up then simply standing up from the ground.

His body felt far more heavy than it should've, the wet muddy clothes on his back only adding to it. "Well isn't this just peachy," Danny muttered sarcastically, tripping every few moments over a tree branch or rock. "Absolutely peachy."

Danny managed to drag his body into the city, his hair fading to black and his eyes to blue as he made his way into city limits. It was still storming out, even more so. The rain ricocheting of the streets creating a sort of mist for the coming cars to drive through. Danny let his eyes wander, the city—from what he could see as of far—was beautiful, it was also rather creepy, but he was a ghost and ghost did creepy.

 _He was a ghost._


End file.
